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Eeeeeeeeck* I am going to Designer Vaca!

Ok so far I have sucked at being on sabbatical, mostly because I have done so much freaking freelance work that I am basically not even on sabbatical anymore, and I have only done a teeny tiny trip abroad with ma faja, and a two week fun-times in Cape town with my boyfriend. But its been good. Its a real mind shift to take every day as it comes and not be totally obsessed about “my-so-called-career”. I even did some bits working for a bank which actually was so much nicer than I ever imagined.

But back to my point, last year when the idea of quitting started developing in my brain, I stumbled across the hashtag #designervaca on instagram, it had happened a week or so before I found it, and looked amazing. A bunch of lady-female designers who meet up in Palm Springs to rock it up for a couple of days. In my (then) sad state of mind I made myself a promise that if I ever got the opportunity, I would effing take it and fly to the US and go. When I remembered about and looked at the website again the 2015 one was already fully booked. I wrote them a note and said they must please keep me on the waiting list as I am super keen. And low and behold an effing spot opened up and I am flipping going. I have paid my accommodation and registration… no flights yet, but I am flipping going. My first solo trip in my sabbatical.
I am excite :)

Life is short and we must grab the bull by the balsak :) ALSO this woman whose work I have admired since before time began, is also going!

Check out their website here and make sure to watch the video :) and see my name on “who is attending”.

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 Exciting times ahead, now I just have to plan my trip, and buy them tickets!
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Missing you.

So the funny thing with timehop is that sometimes it rips open your heart by showing you a picture of your dead brother. Cruel the way grief works. Almost like it happened yesterday, but its been more than five years. Lighting a candle for you, I hope so that you are happy and without pain xxx

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Sabbaticalling and such

I don’t want to be a dick… But I am really loving this sabbatical thing. I look forward to everyday! Everyday is so fucking special* I still need to write a proper post about Cape Town but for now, this feeling of complete peace is what I leave you with :)

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I quit. I quitted. I quittest. Quiteux

At least I did two weeks ago. I wanted to write about it immediately. Bassooon it to the world. I wrote about it incessantly leading up to the big day.. But when it arrived I felt vulnerable and tender and very very tired… so thats why I am only doing this now.

I am not just quitting. I am taking a sabbatical. A creative sabbatical. I plan to travel… some. But mostly I plan to make cool shit. All the shit that I never got time for while I have been working full-time for the past ten years. I feel that this will be (hopefully) be a creative re-boot for me and make me less “Meh” about everything.

I decided on this sabbatical idea when I kept on getting sick and sicker. I was on four courses of antibiotics last year alone. I mean.. seriously.. what the fuck? And I checked at my finances and thought if I make some changes I could probably survive for a couple of months with not working (bye bye retirement fund, fuck you retirement fund) with my savings. Then I thought about it a lot for a couple of months weighing the pros and cons until I finally took the plunge on the 30th of January and resigned. The weird thing about this move is, how much shit I give myself about it. It is completely counter-intuitive for me, and I guess most people not to work. Guilt all day, everyday. Even though I know this is right for me I feel I have to defend this choice way more than is necessary. Bizarre… I am an asshole.

My problem is that I have been pooop with taking breaks during my work career. And now I am physically suffering for it. FYI change is not as good as a holiday. (This will either be the title of my memoir or the name my latest indie band – copyrighted bitch*)

So now I am burned-out, I am flat and I am taking a break.

But I am not dead.

“I no longer have patience for certain things, not because I’ve become arrogant, but simply because I reached a point in my life where I do not want to waste more time with what displeases me or hurts me. I have no patience for cynicism, excessive criticism and demands of any nature. I lost the will to please those who do not like me, to love those who do not love me and to smile at those who do not want to smile at me. I no longer spend a single minute on those who lie or want to manipulate. I decided not to coexist anymore with pretense, hypocrisy, dishonesty and cheap praise. I do not tolerate selective erudition nor academic arrogance. I do not adjust either to popular gossiping. I hate conflict and comparisons. I believe in a world of opposites and that’s why I avoid people with rigid and inflexible personalities. In friendship I dislike the lack of loyalty and betrayal. I do not get along with those who do not know how to give a compliment or a word of encouragement. Exaggerations bore me and I have difficulty accepting those who do not like animals. And on top of everything I have no patience for anyone who does not deserve my patience.” – José Micard Teixeira

Find what you love and let it kill you.

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feeling flat.

so my only living parent is lying in a hospital bed in George after some blood loss induced by a “procedure”. I am 33 and in Johannesburg and I don’t know what to do. I have fear. But I also have recognition that this is out of my hands. Its weird. I feel almost catatonic in my actions. I sit. I smoke (recent). I have been through this fear before and I know my fear will not be able to do or not do the outcome. And then I think I feel fat and feel so kak about how fickle I am. All in nothingness and nothing I can do. I wish for comfort but I can not think of one thing that will make this better… Nothing but worry and nothing I can do. shitfuck.

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